


Flying through Snow

by ToriCeratops



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Ficlet Collection, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-02-05 13:52:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 13,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1820683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToriCeratops/pseuds/ToriCeratops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of short, filled prompts that aren't really long enough to post on their own from Tumblr for Sam/Bucky.</p><p>(Any specific warnings will be posted at the beginning of each chapter.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Snow

"INCOMING!"  

Sam tucked and rolled, ending in a protective squat behind their barrier when Steve shouted his warning.  He watched Clint finally reach the position he’d been climbing towards and nodded at Steve just as the barrage of projectiles sailed over their head.  

"They’re moving too fast.  We’ll never get a shot in at this rate."  Sam tried to look over the short wall  as he spoke but he had to immediately duck back down to avoid getting hit in the face with a massive snow ball.

"It’s that damn arm.  He can fire faster than Bruce can make them!"  Steve is packing in a few more for their local stock, having sent a large portion of their pile up to the tree with Clint.  

The wall was made of tightly packed snow and since he couldn’t look over it without his boyfriend pegging him in the head, Sam punched a hole through it.  Steve nodded with an impressed smile just as they heard a loud shout and the distinct sound of a body landing in a thick layer of snow behind them.

When they turned they found Clint making over exaggerated dying noises, his features barely visible where he was almost buried under more than a foot of white powder.  There’s barely a hint of movement in the tree but they were both fairly certain what the hell just happened.  

"We are so fucked."  Steve tossed a snowball into the branches just for good measure which earned them a quiet giggle, barely distinguishable in the rustle of snow and leafless branches.

"How the hell did she even get up there.  Where is she hiding?"  Sam never gets an answer to his question though.  Ten seconds later there’s another shout, this time from the other side of their barrier and both men hopped up to see Bucky baring down on their location, pelting the whole area with what little ammunition he’d had cradled in his arms.  They both manage to get a shot in and Buck goes down, but it’s just enough of a distraction that neither of them see the head shots coming.  Steve clutched his chest and fell straight forward into their barrier, screaming "CURSE YOU WIDOW!" while shaking his other fist.  Sam though, Sam staggered, pushing his way through until he could fall to his knees at Bucky’s side, shaking his head and making a loud sniffing noise.

"Buck."  Sam pitched his voice a little high to sound worried.  "Bucky you…I thought… Bucky…. you SUCK."  Then he collapsed forward onto an already shaking with laughter Bucky, just before shoving an entire hand full of snow into his boyfriends face.

Natasha swung down from her spot in the tree, pulling her white hood down so her hair stood in stark contrast to the snow.  ”I seem to remember Hot Chocolate being the award for this wager?”


	2. Karaoke

Bucky doesn’t think he’s ever laughed so hard in his life.

Not that he can remember anyway.  But he doesn’t let that thought get to him.  

Mostly because he’s laughing so hard he can barely breathe.  His cheeks hurt, his stomach is tight and he’s holding onto his sides and trying to keep from falling out of his chair.  Next to him Steve is at least attempting to maintain a straight face (and failing miserably).  No one remembers whose idea it was in the first place to go to karaoke, but it really doesn’t matter any more as it was probably the best idea ever.  While Bucky firmly refuses to participate, everyone else has had their go except for the two currently on the stage.  Two, who are wailing like a couple of cats on a fence, as loudly and as badly as they can manage and damn if its not on purpose that just makes it more hilarious.  Sam and Natasha have got to be the worst singers on the planet and they’re  _proud of it._

Tony had started laughing the moment they had picked their song (something called “Don’t Stop Believing” - apparently its a classic) and Clint had reached up and flicked something in his ear and was now grinning like he knew something no one else did.  (Later, when he points out his hearing aid, Bucky will just tell him he was missing out, to which he will reply ‘You think this is my first night out with Tasha?  Why do you think I got one I can turn off?’) 

When they’re finished the bow to the roaring applause and laughter, grins wide and bright and practically bounce back to the table.  Sam flops into his chair next to Bucky, laughing himself.  Bucky can’t even look him i the eye without breaking into laughter for a good hour afterwards.

 

**

"You didn’t sing for me."

Sam pouts.  He is not quite three sheets to the wind but he’s certainly swaying on his feet.  Their party had retired to the mansion but pushing three a.m. most of it had retired to their own rooms.  Ok, all of them except for Sam and Bucky.  Though Bucky is certainly trying to remedy that.  ”I don’t sing.”  He says quietly.  For a second he thinks, looking around and then adds, “In public.”  

"Oh?"  Sam looks hopeful.

Bucky doesn’t say anything, just grabs Sam by the hand and leads him in the opposite direction of their room.  Sam doesn’t ask any questions, just goes along willingly.

The study is dark but the light that floods the room when he opens the door is enough to see what he needs to.  A minute later they’re sitting at the piano, Sam staring at it quizzically while Bucky just smiles.  ”If you say the words ‘play it Sam’ I will clock you.”  

Bucky laughs, letting his fingers fall against the keys in an easy chord, the sound filling the room with a full and bright sounds.  In the years he’s been getting used to his left arm being his own he hasn’t really tried anything complicated on the piano with it so he relegates it to simple chords while he sets his right hand moving.  There’s a lot of music to catch up on, but a few songs have stuck around with him, struck a chord as it was, and this one hits home harder than all the rest.  

After a few bars he starts to sing. “In this farewell, there is no blood.”  Sam sits up and his smile vanishes, but it’s not a bad thing.  ”There’s no alibi, ‘cause I’ve drawn regret.  From the truth of a thousand lies.”   He sings, and Sam watches, smile slowly coming back, no longer amused but fond and so infatuated it would make Bucky blush if he wasn’t busy singing. By the time he reaches the end Sam’s hand has slid up his back, holding Bucky lightly by the back of the neck, “I start again and whatever pain may come, today this ends, I’m forgiving what I’ve done.”  

He doesn’t get to finish the last chorus, the words falling into the air with the last lingering notes of the piano as Sam pulls him into a kiss, warm and sweet with the lingering taste of the drinks he’d been sipping all evening on his lips.  

Bucky twists in his arms and pulls Sam into his lap, deepening the kiss slowly.  

It’s a long time before they make it back to their bedroom.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [check out the [What I’ve Done](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tJUk0CJzAe8) cover I found entirely accidentally that has completely changed my life and my feelings about Bucky Fucking Barnes]


	3. Protection

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter Rating Not really explicit... maybe just... Mature. Yeah.

Bucky hates debriefings.

But he  _loves_ that Sam hates them just as much.  He figures that it’s a rebellious streak given that he’s no longer technically military any more.  Or maybe it’s because they’re still on an adrenaline high and they both know what they’re going to do with that in approximately five and a half minutes.   

True to form they’re the first two out of the room and stumbling into a closet some where, hands and lips everywhere, grinding against one another in completely abandoned movements that just fuel their lust even further.  Their uniforms are annoyingly thick but they work around it, Bucky’s hand sliding under Sams’ shirt while Sam gets his easily down Bucky’s pants and for a minute he forgets how to breathe.

 

He wants to tell Sam what he’s in the mood for, but before he can get a word out Sam drops to his knees, and really, who could be blamed for not having coherent thoughts when you’re about to watch those beautiful lips suck you off?  Even though they’re both still annoying clothed and the leather of Bucky’s top is making far too much noise he couldn’t be assed to care.  Because Sam’s mouth is wet and hot and just the right kind of perfectly filthy.  He watches, because he loves to watch this, but it gets harder and harder to focus the longer Sam works, the more he hums, the tighter he holds his lips.  

His toes are curled in his boots, back arched away from the wall and his sanity is slipping out through the cracks in the door but Bucky manages to get out, “Wait… Fucking… Fuck Sam, Wait.”  Sam pulls back slowly with one long, tight drag of his lips that nearly has Buck spilling right there.  He suckles the head just a little, tongue darting out to tease him when he looks up through his lashes with a grin on his lips.  

"Problem?"

"God no.  Get up here."  Sam is smirking when Bucky tugs him upwards and into a hard kiss.  The taste of himself is heady and bitter on Sam’s lips and all kinds of perfect.  "I want you to fuck me."  He nearly growls out into the kiss. 

Sam’s freezes for a heartbeat, pulling back to give him a curious look.  ”With what, exactly? I don’t know about you, but I don’t exactly keep a condom and lube in my battle gear.”

He doesn’t say a word.  Bucky just gives him a  _look_ as he reaches into one of his utility belt pouches and brings out a small packet and holds it up with a huge smirk, biting his bottom lip in a way he knows drives Sam wild.

Sam gapes and Bucky winks.  ”Have you  _seen_ you?  I always come prepared.”

A few minutes later, with his fingers buried deep in Bucky and Bucky unable to do anything but beg for more, Sam is still laughing quietly between bites and filthy words and Bucky thinks its one of the best sounds in the world.  


	4. Backseat Driving

"Can’t you go any faster?"  Bucky fires at their target again, missing only because they’re moving in an erratic pattern that really isn’t a pattern at all.

"Would you rather be running?"  

"I’d rather not let him get away, thanks."  

"And I’d rather not have your cold as fucking ice hand waking me up in the middle of the night just for your amusement.  But we can’t always get what we want can we?"  Even though he’s still firing (and Sam does speed up as much as he can) Bucky laughs loud and brightly, nearly shaking with it.

Which just slows them down again.  ”He’s going left he’s going left, HE’S GOING LEFT!”

"I CAN SEE THAT."  Sam swerves and just barely makes the turn, making sure Bucky still has a clear line of sight.

"You’re gonna hit that car."

"You’re gong to be flatter than a pancake when I drop your sorry ass and just go after the guy myself."

They pick up just enough speed and get a little higher in the air in an attempt to get a drop on the guy and Bucky looks up at Sam with his eyes wide.  ”You wouldn’t actually - “ 

"Just trust me baby.  I got you."

A moment later Bucky is hurdling forward on his own, landing on the back of their target’s motorcycle and punching him while simultaneously trying to get control of the bike.  

Sam flies up close and matches their speed for a brief moment and laughs at the guy who looks appropriately scared shitless.  ”Careful man, he’s a HORRIBLE passenger.”


	5. Escape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Canon Typical Violence

Two days, five hours, and twelve minutes.  

That’s how long it’s been since Bucky knew Sam was missing.  

One day, twenty-three hours and forty-one minutes.

That’s how long its been since they received the message from Hydra issuing a forty-eight hour ultimatum.  Return the Winter Solider to them, and the Avengers could have the Falcon back.

Even though he had expected it, no one ever suggested that Bucky stay behind.  They all knew it was a trap, that Hydra wouldn’t turn Sam over even if they had Bucky and that when they charged in to save him there would be counter measures in place just to try and take him down.  But none of that mattered.  Everyone planned and worked together, and it was Steve who handed him his gun.  

Bucky sets off another explosion as he runs down the hall, kicking in the next door and taking out whoever tries to stop him.  

One day, twenty-three hours and forty-six minutes.

 

Apparently Hydra hadn’t caught up on their homework. He would have worked endlessly for any member of his team, but for Sam there was no such thing as collateral damage. 

The adrenaline high of his single minded focus is waning the closer they come to the end of their time frame and the fear Bucky has been using to fuel his rage threatens to over take him.

One day, twenty-three hours and fifty-two minutes.

Shouting can be heard echoing through the halls, but it sounds more like it’s coming from below them than further forward.  

He slides to a halt next to Steve, knowing the way behind them is clear but the way forward is worse than anything they’ve been through yet.  Silently they make eye contact, Bucky glancing towards the floor which Steve understands instantly.  A moment later he’s punching through the while Steve cracks his shield against it right along side him.  The fall is a rough landing, the floor below much further than they’d expected but he rolls with it and is standing a moment later.  Gunfire explodes above Bucky and he looks up.

"Go get him. I got this."  Steve yells down but is gone before Bucky can respond.

One day, twenty-three hours and fifty-eight minutes.  

He follows the sounds of combat, of shouting and anger.  It takes him longer than he thinks it should to break through the first door, and his heart nearly stops when thirty seconds later his way his blocked by thick metal bars.

One day, twenty-three hours and fifty-nine minutes.

He can bend them, that isn’t the problem, but it slows him down and the whole time he can feel his heart pounding in his head and his chest, bile rising in his throat.

Two days, zero hours and one minute.

Three steps after he’s through the bars the silence that suddenly hits nearly suffocates him.  

But he keeps going.

Two days.  

Zero hours.

Three minutes.

Bucky enters an empty room.  Well, empty of any living person anyway.  The walls are marred and covered in holes, streaks of blood smeared down in every corner.  Four Hydra bodies lie scattered in various states of unconsciousness.  It’s only his need to keep going that keeps him from finishing every last one of them off just out of principle.  

"You…"  Ready to attack, Bucky spins on his heel.  Standing there two feet further down the hall is Sam.  He is breathing heavily, face smeared in dirt and blood and clothes torn and burnt.  The soldier in his choke hold falls limp to the ground.  "Are late."

Even though his chest feels like its going to collapse, Bucky gives him a lopsided grin.  ”I got held up.  Traffic.  You know how it is.”

Sam is in his arms a second later, “Don’t let it happen again.”  Their kiss is harsh, deep and needy and lasts just long enough for Bucky to feel like he can breathe again.

For the first time in two days, five hours and thirty four minutes, he can.


	6. First Time Sleeping Together (Explicit)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating for this chapter: Explicit

It’s been months.

Months of quiet moments together, stolen kisses, quiet touches, nights wrapped up in safe arms and so many damn back and forths Bucky’s surprised Sam’s head isn’t in a constant state of spin.  He’s the most patient man Buck has ever met and given that his best friend is Steve fucking Rogers, that’s saying something.  

The first time he’d crawled into bed with Sam they hadn’t even really been together yet.  He was just crashing there when he was in a better head space than normal but needing to not be around Steve and everything he represented to Bucky’s life.  Which was a lot, and way too fucking much to deal with some of the time.  So he was told under no uncertain terms one night to stay on the couch, to not go anywhere else because he was safe there and Sam wasn’t taking a no for an answer.  And Bucky had listened - for one night anyway.  Then a few weeks later for two nights in a row.  Eventually he was there more than he wasn’t and while he wasn’t sure where the shift from ‘safe place to crash’ towards ‘home’ happened, but he knew it was all Sam.

He’d had a nightmare, which wasn’t unusual.  Flashes of light, explosions and blood, too much blood, were all expected most nights.  Bucky had been half way to Sam’s room before he was fully awake, about to turn around and head back when Sam simply told him to stay.  

So Bucky had.

Now he has half a dresser to himself, though he doesn’t really use all of it.  There’s a few inches in the closet if he needs it.  But again, there’s really nothing to put in there.  His favorite cereal never runs out in the cabinet, he’s got a coffee mug that no one uses but him, and he picked out the last type of toothpaste they bought.

It’s early in the morning, the sun barely even peaking through the blinds in their bedroom - yes, their bedroom, and isn’t that a weird thought - and Sam is still asleep, arms cradled under his pillow, face down in the bed.  Bucky leans against the door jam between there and the bathroom just watching him for what feels like a long time.

"Are you just gonna creep over there all morning?"  Sam’s voice is cracked and tired but amused and Bucky smiles, finally moving into the room again.  He kneels onto the bed as Sam stretches, dark skin and toned muscles moving under the soft stream of light that’s finally pouring into the room.  Before Sam can twist around though Bucky straddles his hips, leans forward with his weight on his left arm and slides his right hand along the well defined lines of Sam’s back.  He traces the muscles there, well earned through years of flight and hard work, all while pressing careful and fluttering kisses to the top of his spine.  Sam hums in response, shifting a little and reacting to Bucky’s touches in all the best ways.  

"Hmm, much better than creeping."

"Thought so."  

His kisses become less teasing and gain more intention in their placement - the base of his neck, the soft pulse point behind Sam’s ear, the top of his shoulder.  Just as he slips his fingers below the line of Sam’s boxers - only to caress the lines of his hips that he can reach - he drags his teeth carefully along the tendon in his neck.  Sam sucks in a long breath, rolling easily under Bucky to look up at him.  Though he doesn’t say anything, there are dozens of questions in his eyes, underlined with his own desires and needs but focused entirely on Bucky.

Bucky nods, lips trembling but smiling carefully, and Sam’s grin goes wide as he lifts to give him a tender kiss.

This is what Sam has always been for him.  A silent, steady rock, that doesn’t ask and doesn’t push.  He just accepts.  He takes whatever Bucky is willing to give and offers silently in return.  When the world outside is a tumultuous and terrifying place, when his control is shaky at best and he’s got too many memories banging about in his head that he can’t make sense of any of it, Sam is an open door and a warm bed.

Sam is home.

Bucky deepens the kiss, sliding his hand further beneath the thin fabric and down around Sam’s length, feeling the softness of his skin and the way he’s hardening at his touch.  He rocks his own hips forward, the friction sending a spark through his spine he doesn’t expect.  When he gasps at the sensation he catches the way Sam is smiling up at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth even through his own quickening breath.  

Their hands and lips keep moving, kisses and touches that roam everywhere, over familiar planes of skin and into previously unexplored territory that both are eager to know every inch of.  Sooner than Bucky expects Sam’s boxers are lost who knows where - though he’s still got his firmly in place - and his fingers are slick and teasing, forehead pressed against Sam’s, holding his breath.  

Sam looks him in the eye then nods with a slow blink.

They’d talked about this, briefly, from time to time.  Hell, Bucky had lost count of the times they’d started and stopped just as quickly.

He wanted this, all of this, the pain and the pleasure and the bliss of getting lost within one another.  But as much as Bucky had thought about it, fantasized and dreamed, he had always been terrified - still is if he’s being honest.  It would leave him bare and exposed in more than the physical sense, lost to his own pleasure he couldn’t be sure something wouldn’t slip, some of his control wouldn’t break and find himself in the blank state of mind he’d been so ensconced in for decades.  

He’s trembling, though he’s not fully aware of how badly.  Despite the fact that it’s his body being pressed open, wide and exposed around Bucky’s fingers, Sam keeps saying soothing things, quiet and careful, into Bucky’s ear between light kisses.

"Sam.. Sam I - "

"It’s okay.  It’s - "  His breath hitches when Bucky bends his knuckles without thinking.  "You can stop if you need to.  I’ll still be right here."  

He pauses but doesn’t pull away, lifting his head to look into Sam’s eyes.  There, like always, is nothing but patience, understanding, and something else that neither of them will put into words and Bucky can’t even bring himself to think about.  Bucky kisses him then, full and hard, close lipped at first until Sam darts his tongue out and then it’s all he can bring himself to focus on.  There are hands carded in his hair, clinging and pulling him impossibly closer.  Bucky is reeling from it all, moving his hand again, slipping in and out with a steady rhythm that Sam picks up and goes with easily, moaning into Bucky’s mouth with a soft and desperate sound.  

Eventually Sam can barely keep the kiss going, whining with his head held back, neck exposed and his breath impossible to catch.  It’s a fucking beautiful sight to see.  ”Buck… Please…”  It’s not even a full request, but it’s the first time in nearly a year Sam has ever asked anything of him and it took Bucky taking him to the edge to bring him there.  

He smiles and slips his fingers free, catching Sam’s whine with another kiss as he pushes his underwear down and kicks it off the bed.   With trembling hands and a heartbeat that is running out of control he slicks himself thoroughly and pushes carefully forward, sinking slowly into Sam’s welcoming and warm body with his eyes clenched closed and head pressed hard into the cradle of Sam’s neck.  Again it’s Sam with the the gentle touch and the soothing words, even as his voice grows more and more pinched and desperate.  ”Fuck, you feel good Bucky.  So good…”  

They move achingly slow at first, Sam adjusting and Bucky clinging to his control.  It’s not the kind of control he had expected to be searching for, though, it’s not the control of his mind that he needs but his body and his heart.  His mind is exactly where it needs to be, narrowed down and completely focused entirely on just the two of them, on the heavy scent of their sweat mixing together, the rasping sound of the breathing and the occasional squeak of the mattress beneath the movement of their bodies.  He slides his hand down and around Sam’s leg, lifting it and his hips to get a new angle and then even the sounds are lost in the haze of pleasure.  

Sam comes with a curse and quiet groan, spilling hot and wet between them and Bucky follows him almost instantly, his orgasm pushed over the edge by the sound of Sam’s pleasure more than anything else. Bucky is silent in his release, trembling through it and clinging to Sam with everything he has, barely conscious of not holding on so tight that he’ll leave more than a faint bruise.  It rolls through his spine and releases in waves of sensations he couldn’t put words to if he tried until it’s all too much and he stills, Sam clinging to his shoulder while they both finally try and catch their breath.  

By the time he can see straight again, Sam is shaking beneath him, the soft sound of laughter drifting throughout the room.  Bucky pinches him lightly in the side, teasingly, and grumbles into his neck something that at least sounds like a question.

"Sorry.  But… you know..  Fuck Bucky, but you are so worth waiting for."

He pulls up just enough to glance at him through a half hearted glare, still feeling more than a little punch drunk.  Sam’s smile softens, “And for everything, not just this.”  He flexes his muscles around where Bucky is slowly softening inside him, pulling a hiss and a groan from Bucky.  

"You’re an ass."  Bucky teases, slowly slipping free.

"No, I’m pretty sure - " Sam is cut off by the shrill sound of Bucky’s ring tone from the night stand, the special one meant just for Steve.  (Not that he has more than half a dozen numbers in there to begin with.)

Bucky groans and reaches over to silence it, remembering at the very last moment that he’s about to slam it with his metal hand and instead grips it carefully, pressing the button on the side instead of the screen.

He’s still mostly on top of Sam, who has a leg still hooked around his hip and is running his fingers through the lengths of Bucky’s hair.  ”We’re supposed to go to Brooklyn today.”  He admits quietly.  ”Last time it - it didn’t go well.”

Sam kisses his temple, quiet and reassuring.  ”I’ll come with you.”

"You always do."  Bucky smiles despite the anxiety building in his gut, less than normal and no where near as tight as it could have been.  

"And I always will." 


	7. "Moral of the story: I had sex to Back to the Future last night."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS: This is the one that started it all, my slow descent into madness.

"This movie is dumb."  

Sam pinched Bucky’s leg with his bare toe from where it was snuggled underneath the man.  ”You shut your mouth, this movie is a classic.”  He never looked away from the screen but he could just imagine the pout on Bucky’s lips, the way his arms were probably crossed and the way he was undoubtedly rolling his eyes.  

"I can think of at least a dozen other things I would rather be doing right now than watch some idiot get his time machine stolen."

That just made Sam sigh.  Because they had been doing this for a couple of weeks - having quiet nights in instead of anything out on the town or with other people.  Bucky had asked for this, had wanted to just take down time to exist, watch movies and maybe read a couple dozen books.  But he was always the one that wanted to change halfway through something.  Maybe it was a byproduct of never being awake for very long periods of time but he always acted as if something wasn’t 100% interesting, there were better things he must be doing right that second.  

 

And Sam got that.  He really did.  But he was tired.  ”Then do something else and I’ll just watch the movie.”

Sam glanced at him, briefly, and saw the contemplative look in Bucky’s eyes before he refocused his own attention back on the screen.  As soon as the weight that had been keeping his toes warm moved he felt guilty, just like he knew he would.

But not for long.

"What are you doing?" Instead of getting up and actually going away as Sam had thought he had done, Bucky had just turned around in his spot on the end of the couch and was slowly moving his hands along Sam’s bare calves, guiding them apart before making it to the hem of his shorts.  

"No no no.  You watch the movie."  He pointed sternly toward the screen then gave Sam the biggest shit eating grin Bucky had in his repertoire.  "I’m going to do something more interesting."  Without any further pretext he leaned forward and mouthed at Sam’s slowly hardening cock through the fabric of his shorts, never taking his eyes of Sam’s.  

That look alone - one eye brow raised and lips quirked even as they worked - was enough to make Sam lose his breath.  Spreading his legs a little wider and running a hand through Bucky’s hair, Sam laughed.  ”Eh.  It’s a dumb movie anyway.”


	8. First Kiss

Sam barely made it out of the blast radius in one piece.  His wings were jacked up and his flight unstable because of it but he was alive and could still  _technically_ fly, even if it was terrifyingly shaky.  ”Cap!  These bots have a self destruct protocol that kicks in when you take them down.”  He looked back at the crater that had been left behind in the middle of Broadway.  That was gonna need a little patchwork.  

But Sam got no response.  ”Cap?”  Still nothing.  ”Bucky?”  He crossed his fingers and headed towards their last known locations.  ”Stark, Widow, Hawk.   Anyone read me?”  The complete lack of response just had him flying faster and finding himself praying that it was his comm that was out and not his entire team.  He spun uncontrollably closer to the ground before righting himself and making a turn to find Bucky racing towards the next intersection where Steve had just taken down another bot.  The relief at seeing them alive was quickly overcome by the urgent need to get to Steve about five seconds earlier.    

Shit.

 

He didn’t have long.  Sam threw his wings back and dove, snatching Steve under his arms and instantly going back up.  ”What the hell?”

"SHIELD TO THE GROUND CAP!"  Almost too late Steve curled his body up and tucked as much of himself as he could into his shield.  With the extra weight and busted wings Sam almost wasn’t fast enough.

The explosion was deafening.  It was hotter than the last one and threw them both into a spin and hurdling towards the ground.  Somehow they managed to hit the asphalt shield first, which while if they hadn’t Steve probably would have been fine, is possibly the only thing that saved Sam’s life.  

The world went kind of hazy while they settled, Sam letting go of Steve who was tossing his shield to the side.  The metal was covered in scorch marks and the ends of Steve’s gloves had been burned away, skin on his fingers red and angry.  Patches of both of their uniforms were missing and scraps hanging with various pieces of armor lost or half melted.  They both removed their head gear just in time to see Bucky catching up to them, skidding to halt and dropping to his knees just in front of Steve with a wild and terrified look in his eyes. 

He checked every inch of him, asking about the burns and if he was okay and  _what they hell, Punk.  You are always doing stupid shit like this._

Steve had that dumb little smile reserved just for his best friend even as he was pushing him away and grumbling that he was  _fine and didn’t need to be mothered I’m not fifteen anymore THANK YOU VERY MUCH BUCKY._ Even in his adrenaline high of just having survived two explosions in a row Sam had to force himself to _not_  be jealous of the attention they gave each other, of the attention Bucky gave Steve.  He focused on catching his breath and almost missed when Steve finished his complaints with, “I would be in pieces right now if it weren’t for Sam.”

When Sam looked up again it was to see that Bucky had moved in front of him instead with a wide and adoring grin.  ”I know.  I saw.”

He was kissing Sam before Sam knew what the hell was going on.  With hands on his shoulder and his space invaded in the best possible ways Bucky was kissing what Sam had left of his breath right away.  It was harsh and bruising and Sam put everything he had right back into it (which given the circumstances was unfortunately not a whole lot).  He got his non injured hand into Bucky’s mess of hair and held on tight.  

When they paused but didn’t move away, Sam chuckled.  ”Cap, remind me to save your ass more often.”  But Steve was laughing quietly, politely looking away and didn’t answer.  

"This isn’t about him."  Bucky seemed to think that over then added.  "Ok maybe it’s a little bit about him."

"Yeah and he got the once over for nearly being exploded to bits."  Sam teased.  

"OH don’t think you’re getting out of this that easily.  You will so be getting the rest of my anger over all this later but…"  He sighed and tapped his forehead against Sam’s.  "That was way more important."


	9. Supernatural AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, the first thing that came to mind.....

Bucky and Steve paced the old barn for what felt like forever.  ”I thought you said this would work.”  

"You’re the one who looked the spell over and agreed with me.  I’m just the lug with the gun remember, Bookworm?"  

Steve rolled his eyes with his arms crossed because they both knew that wasn’t true.  Bucky didn’t like to ever admit anything different though.  Just before Steve could try and argue again they both jerked to attention with the sound of thunder and a flash of lightning outside.  But after the first round it wasn’t just outside.  Light streaked across the ceiling, sound rattled the walls and even the shook the floor beneath their feet.  They snapped to combat stance towards the doors - Bucky with his gun in one hand, demon knife in the other while Steve had his enchanted shield at the ready.  They slammed open to reveal a shadowed humanoid figure slowly making his way into the building.  

When the lightning streaked through the building it lit up his features, illuminating a set of massive white wings spread out, wider than he was tall.  His skin was dark and his suit a sharp cut grey complete with vest and deep purple tie.  

Not their usual brand of strange, to say the least.

Steve and Bucky opened fire but he just kept coming.

By the time he was standing close enough for hand to hand his wings were gone and he had a ridiculous smirk on his face.  Steve moved in first, ready to hit him hard with the edge of his shield, but the creature just waved his hand and Steve collapsed to the ground.

Bucky saw red.  He lunged forward, burying his demon knife right in the heart of the strange creature.  

But nothing happened.  ”Was that necessary?”  He asked, looking down at the knife then at Bucky with a judgmental frown.  ”Your friend is fine.  He was just a little, tired looking.  Like maybe he needed a long nap”

This was not going how he had expected at all.  Bucky’s heart was pounding in his chest with fear, eyes wide as he looked up to meet the gaze of whoever the hell this guy was.  

"Who are you?"

"I’m Sam, Bucky.  And I just pulled your sorry ass outta hell so unless you’re in a hurry to get back I suggest you pull that useless knife out of my chest and we start this little introduction over again."

He jerked back in shock, the knife falling from his hand as soon as it was free of Sam’s chest.   The moment it was on the ground the creature’s face lit up into a brilliant, toothy grin that was equal parts mischievous and hot as fuck.

Bucky was so screwed.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Angel!Sam](http://www.esquire.com/cm/esquire/images/anthony-mackie-2-1108-lg-18730767.jpg)


	10. Snow Part 2 (Explicit)

Two hours later, after hot chocolate and dinner graciously provided by “Team Bird Brain” (Steve would forever object to the name but Clint and Sam refused to budge) Sam caught Bucky trying to hide his shiver.  Instead of asking him about it, or calling him out for never asking for what he needs, Sam does what he always does.  He fixes the problem without telling Bucky he knows he’s fixing a problem.  

Bucky knows, and he’s expressed his gratitude for it on numerous occasions.  

That day he leaned over and ran a hand over the back of Bucky’s neck, quietly noting how cold his skin still was and said, “I think I’m going to go grab a shower.  Join me?”

It wasn’t much of a long shot, and Bucky followed him with a wide and excited grin.  

The water was just warm enough to start with, Sam pulling Bucky into the steady spray and letting it roll down the metal of his arm for several minutes before turning the temperature up to something a little more steamy until Bucky’s arm was no longer cold but not too hot to touch and had chased the chill out of his bones. They were silent for the most part, Bucky slowly relaxing under Sam’s steady hands, rolling his shoulders while Sam kneaded tight muscles and pressed wet kisses against the back of his neck.  Eventually Bucky turned under his touch and slipped his right hand behind Sam’s head to guide him forward for a slow and languid kiss.  Sam drank it up, parting his lips and letting him in, pressing his body flush against Bucky’s.  The warmth of the water was nothing to the heat of his body, the way his touch and the roll of his hips made Sam’s skin tingle and heart pound hard in his chest.  Bucky dragged his lips down the side of Sam’s neck, grazing his teeth along the hard lines and pulling a moan from Sam.  He felt it down through his spine, arched with it when Bucky slowly bit down and sucked, flicking his tongue out to flutter along the skin.  Bucky took the opportunity to tighten his grip, to slip their bodies harder against each other.

There was a bottle of lube on the shelf in the shower, (which Sam had only mistaken for shampoo ONCE in a post battle haze and  _never again)_ that Sam reached behind Bucky and groped for haphazardly.  Bucky looked at him once he finally got it in hand with that bright, wide and toothy fucking grin that makes Sam go weak at the knees even when he doesn’t have his hard cock trapped against Bucky’s body.  

After several minutes (or hours or seconds Sam couldn’t honestly say how long) of Bucky torturing him with his fingers he was begging for more and barely able to catch his breath between the shocks of pleasure and the water pouring over his face.  This is how Bucky showed his thanks, not with words but with touch, with his kiss and his tongue and his attention to every single inch of skin that he knew would drive Sam wild.  He pushed him just out of the reach of the spray of water to suck at his neck, teased at his nipples with the slick metal of his fingers, stretched him wide with a shameless smirk on his lips, all while Sam tried desperately to cling to him, arms unable to find purchase but trusting Bucky with everything.  

Bucky slipped his fingers free, immediately catching Sam’s whine in a filthy kiss, lips and tongues sliding in and out of the warmth of each other’s mouth while hot water streamed down their faces.  He was just as breathless as Sam, chest heaving and voice cracked when he finally said, “turn around” low and needy in Sam’s ear.  

With Bucky braced behind him, and one leg carefully cradled in a metal arm, Sam bit down hard on his lip and held his breath.  Bucky pressed forward, slipping in and filling him slowly.  Every nerve in his skin came alive, sensations made even sweeter by the fact that Bucky was already coming apart just from their connection, groaning against Sam’s neck and starting to whisper almost inaudible words of praise and adoration.  It was the only time Bucky ever made a sound that wasn’t a command during sex, when he was fucking Sam, burying himself in his body, and Sam loved every last syllable of it. 

Any awkwardness of the position was forgotten in the thrill of their bodies moving, slick and hot.  And Bucky kept them together, kept them up, kept them going.  His orgasm built faster than expected, Bucky sliding in to his body at just the right angle that it was almost impossible to hold back.

They came within moments of each other - Sam shouting with it, Bucky silent as always with his face pressed forward against Sam’s neck.  It rolled through Sam’s body, down his spine and through his gut, his skin so hot that the water almost felt cool even though the temperature had remained perfectly steady.

When the streaks of white had washed away and his ability to draw in a full breath finally returned, Sam moved forward, carefully away from Bucky’s grip so he could turn and throw his arms over his shoulders.  

He was flushed and had his eyes almost closed, blissed out grin all over his face.   Sam thought it was one of his best looks.

"Good and warmed up now, babe?"  Sam hummed and kissed Bucky again, dragging out his bottom lip slowly between his teeth.  

Bucky, slowly coming back to himself,  chased after him for more kisses and shook his head.  ”Mm.  No, don’t think so.  Probably going to have to curl up naked under a couple layers of blankets.  You know, to share body heat.”

"Well, if its in the name of survival."  

They both laughed and kissed for a while longer, cleaning each other up one last time, happy, sated, and perfectly - blissfully - warm.  


	11. Supernatural AU: Part 2

Bucky didn’t often have lucid dreams, nor did he actually have many  _good_ dreams since he was rescued but… that was another matter entirely.  Wearing jeans that were too tight and a shirt with too many holes in it, he found himself in a club that was dark and dirty, with the kind of music that lent itself to the proper grinding of bodies that may or may not lead to orgasm with very little actual work.  He was drawn to the center of the room where a familiar figure was standing mostly still, only nodding his head along with the beat.  

Even though Bucky couldn’t see his face, the white wings were a dead give away.   Somehow, his presence wasn’t surprising.

For a moment he contemplated what to do about that.  Because - the thing was - he thought about Sam a lot.  He treated him with more disdain than absolutely necessary in person but come on, no one was THAT much of a good guy and yet could still hold his own with his and Steve’s snark fest.  Ok, well, except for Steve himself.  Steve was special.  Beside the point, thinking about Steve was  _not_ what he was in the mood for.  Hot angel body was what he was in the mood for.

And, fuck it.  It was a dream.  No one would have to know but him.

Bucky let his hips start rolling with the beat as he stepped up behind dream Sam, pressing in close with his metal hand on his hips to get him to start moving too.   He slid his flesh hand along Sam’s back, out across his shoulder then caught the ridge of his wing.  Bucky had always imagined what this would feel like, the feathers slipping through his fingers, and technically this was still his imagination but he wasn’t going to dwell on that fact.  Dream Sam tensed just a fraction under his touch, his wings snapping out and ruffling with every slide of Bucky’s fingers.

He bit his bottom lip and leaned in even closer, dragging the tip of his nose along the dark lines of Sam’s neck.  Sam just tilted his head, lengthening that gorgeous fucking neck, which Bucky took as an invitation for more.  He gave a soft bite to the shell of his ear, “Hey there, angel.  I haven’t seen you here before.”

Sam’s laughter shook through his chest and Bucky could feel it where he was pressed against him.  ”So this is what you dream about, huh?”  Bucky froze.

"What - "

While Bucky was frozen Sam twisted just enough so Bucky could see the single raised eyebrow and cheeky smirk.  ”You know some would call this blasphemous right?”

Bucky couldn’t do anything but stutter, not even having the clarity of mind to step away.  Of course, he wasn’t even paying attention to the fact that Sam wasn’t moving out of his grasp either.  All Bucky cared about was finding a way to melt into the floor or just kind of - vanish.  Yeah, that would be the absolute ideal situation right about then. 

Because, man,  _fuck angels._


	12. Night shift AU

The halls are dark and empty as usual, small running lights along the floor so that he can see without a flashlight and his eyes don’t have to adjust when he stops and looks into each exhibit.  It makes his rounds faster through this part of the aerospace museum.  Which is good since it’s one of the less popular, less - valuable - areas.  No one ever comes in here anyway.

Except…

There’s a sound from the next room over, just a quiet, barely noticeable shift of something against the floor.  Sam grabs his flashlight and slows his pace, toeing the rest of the distance to the entrance and peering slowly around the corner.  There’s nothing obviously out of place, but one of the rafters is swinging a little oddly.  He swears he catches a glint of metal and presses the switch on his flashlight. 

He flicks it on just in time to catch the figure hopping down and is a second too slow to react before he’s being pressed back against the wall, a hand slipping behind his neck and warm, surprisingly soft lips pressed against his.  In an instant he parts his own lips and presses back, licking into the mouth that’s over taken his and sucking lightly at his bottom lip as the figure pulls away to breathe.

"You have got to stop breaking into my museum for a booty call."

Bucky smirks and grinds his hips forward, slotting one of his legs between Sam’s for the perfect amount of pressure to drive him wild.  ”But I tried breaking in to steal something once and you just kept catching me.”

"Yeah…."  Sam groans when Bucky repeats the motion, combined with a bite and hard suck to the side of his neck.  "…and now I can’t get rid of you."

Not that he’s complaining.  Bucky may not have gotten away with any museum pieces that night, but somewhere along the last couple years he got away with every single last shred of Sam’s sanity.


	13. Soulmates

The hospital showers were the worst, and hadn’t gotten nearly enough dirt off.   He was filthy and Steve wasn’t awake yet (he was going to be okay but the days of running and fighting for their lives - among other things - had apparently taken their toll) so Sam went home.  He would be gone an hour at the most, for a quick bite of real food, hot shower and a change of clothes.  

He almost missed it, scrubbing his body, down to his legs, careful around the stitched up gashes.  But there, as he braced himself on the bar and lifted his foot to get the dirt from between his toes, was a flash of bright red.  Sam caught himself from falling and sat back on the tile bench to look more closely.  There, on the heel of his right foot, was a bright, deep red, star outlined in a thin silver line.

That was new.  

He leaned back and let the water wash over him, trying to figure it out.  Because some time in the last - fuck, he had no clue how long when the hell was the last time he had looked at his FOOT - he had met and either tripped over, stepped on or kicked —

Kicked.

In his chest his heart felt like it crashed to a halt, unable to beat with how tight everything suddenly felt.  What the hell was he supposed to do with this?  The mark of a man who had been trying to kill them less than 24 hours ago.  A man who Steve had insisted was one to be saved.

If Steve Rogers vouched for him, maybe Sam wasn’t totally screwed.

Of course, that didn’t make him breathe any easier. 

****

 

Bucky never found his mark on his own.

He had tried to avoid actively looking into mirrors for a long time, unsure of anything he would see there and not wanting to be reminded of who he was.  Even after they found him, after Steve saved him - again - he hated mirrors.  No matter what the situation, he would look away, avert his gaze.  

Months passed. Months of Natasha’s old man jokes, months of Steve never  _ever_ giving up on him, months of Sam… good god, Sam…   Steve made everything clear, but Sam made everything fucking  _worth it._   

They were going to take him to New York, introduce him to someone named Tony who both Natasha and Steve had this strange sense of fond disdain for.  He was going to examine the arm, figure out how it worked so he could fix it when it needed it, make it better when it didn’t.  Bucky figured it was good to have a mechanic around.

But the night before they were supposed to leave Sam pulled him into the back room.  Ostensibly it was to tell or show him something but Bucky couldn’t pass up the opportunity since it was basically handed to him and kissed him soundly the moment the door was closed. Sam melted into it, didn’t even act surprised and had Bucky nearly weak at the knees.  ”So I guess that answers that question.”  He said quietly, lips brushing Bucky’s when he paused to take a breath.

"What question?"  

"About your mark.  If you’ve seen it.  You gotta tell me where it is though."

Bucky did a double take and looked at Sam like he had lost it.  ”What mark?”

With the infinite patience that Sam had always shown him, he smiled and silently asked with a simple gesture for Bucky to remove his shirt.   Sam walked around Bucky who eyed him with caution that he couldn’t help.  But Sam just silently placed the palm of his hand just between Bucky’s shoulder blades.  His touch was warm and ignited something deep in his bones that he’d never before even imagined.  

"My wings."  Sam said with a shaky breath.

Oh.

_OH!_

 Bucky smiled and turned slowly in Sam’s arms, coming in close for another kiss, softer, slower, more careful and taking care to savor it this time.  

Maybe this life was going to be okay after all.


	14. Leaving Notes for Each Other

_"This is not where milk goes"_

Bucky frowns at the fridge and the sticky note while taking a giant gulp right out of the jug.  He picks it up from the shelf, presses it firmly to the spot on the inside of the door, and leaves the milk right where the note had been.

***

“ _These are hair ties.  For_   ** _hair._** _Not for your rolls of paper.”_ **  
**

He knows its retaliation for the milk and Sam rolls his eyes.  He slips one off the piece of cardboard anyway and then another one for good measure.  He prefers Bucky with his hair down anyway.

***

“ _My password is not supposed to be ‘buckygivesthebestblowjobs’.  Stop changing it._

_……………… even if it IS true.”_

For a minute he can’t see straight he’s laughing so hard.  The laptop comes to life and Bucky puts in the normal password, immediately pulling up the privacy setting  to change the password to ‘samwilsonstongueismagic’ instead.

***

“ _People who eat the last thing of yogurt don’t get bedroom seconds.”_

That’s a damn lie.  Sam knows it.  Bucky knows it.  

Sam grabs a granola bar instead - just in case.

***

“ _Skinny jeans on date night should be illegal.  Please wear them more anyway.  I am above the law.”_ There’s a little doddle of wings, just for good measure. _  
_

He hadn’t been planning on wearing the black jeans, but Bucky couldn’t resist teasing Sam any chance he got and if just showing up in a tight pair of denim pants would get the night started off right, then why the hell not.

But before he even gets his hand on the note or the jeans, his phone buzzes the Assemble alert.  Immediately he turns and grabs for his gun instead.  

So much for date night.

***  
Sam wakes up without having a fucking clue where he is.  He’s trying to blink himself awake but its hard.  It’s hard to breathe, there’s something wrapped around his otherwise bare chest and everything fucking HURTS.  Under him he can feel itchy sheets and a bed that is most certainly not his own.  Eventually enough light bleeds through his lids and really gets him awake so he can open his eyes.  

He’s in… a hospital room.  Monitors surround him, wires and tubes crisscross his body, and his mouth is dryer than it’s ever been.  After his initial assessment, he feels a heavy weight on the hand without tubes running out of it and looks down enough to see Bucky fast asleep, head on his arms, right at the side of his bed.  Just seeing them there, silent and peaceful, with his hair in a messy bun and several strands falling loose, is enough to make some of the pain vanish - even if its all just in his head.  He doesn’t have much strength, but he musters enough to run a hand through Bucky’s hair.

Then he notices a scrap of yellow on his bandages, manages to catch it between two fingers.

His eyes get a little watery.

“ _This is not where bullets go.”_


	15. Leaving Notes for Each Other (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did an ask box meme that had someone asking for "Something that has already happened from a different character's POV".
> 
> It was supposed to be from a project I'm WORKING on but uh.... I did this instead.

Steve had to pull Bucky off the guy who had pulled the trigger.

There honestly wasn’t much left of him, and even with Steve’s super strength he had struggled with the pure adrenalin and rage coursing through Bucky’s veins.  In the end, it was his words that made Bucky nearly collapse in his arms. 

_"He’s down, Buck.  Sam needs you now."_

Hours of pacing and cursing and fighting the debilitating clench in his chest passed while Sam was in surgery.  No one could calm him down though everyone certainly tried.  He didn’t cry.  Bucky was far too worked up and furious for any of that.  Every doctor that passed by the waiting room caught his attention, and the one nurse that started to question his right to be the first to see him would probably have nightmares for the rest of his life.  

But eventually, the words he’d been on pins and needles for came.

"He’s gonna be fine.  You can go see him now.  But don’t wake him, please.  He’s going to need his rest."

On his way down the hall, past the nurses station, he spotted a small pack of post it notes and couldn’t help himself.  Bucky nicked it easily, tucking it in his pocket before moving away and to where Sam was recovering.

When he made it to the room the doctor kept talking, but he didn’t hear a single word of it.  

Sam was perfectly still - too still.  It was nothing like when he usually slept, which was usually curled up around Bucky and constantly moving.  There should be small twitches in his fingers, stupid mumbling, sleep talking nonsense and the occasional light snore  _right_ in Bucky’s ear.  Not this - hooked up to half a dozen monitors and tubes that Bucky couldn’t make heads or tales of.  He moves to the side of his bed, leaning over to press a light, flutter of a kiss to his forehead.  His lips are trembling and words shaky.  ”I’m sorry about the milk, baby.”

When he pulls away he has to wipe the tear that fell from Sam’s cheek just as another one escapes.  

Bucky scribbles a quick note and places it carefully on Sam’s chest before pulling up a chair and settling in to wait for him to wake.

It doesn’t take him long to be lulled to sleep by the steady, strong, beautiful sound of Sam’s heartbeat.


	16. Supernatural AU: Part 3

The music is awful.

Fifty thousands years and  _this_ is the stuff Bucky chooses to dance to in his dreams?  Hopefully he has better taste when he’s awake.  Even still, Sam can’t help the way his head starts to move with the beat.  It  _is_ catchy if he’s forced to be honest.  Which he usually is.  You know, because - angel.

While looking around the crowded dreamscape Sam suddenly feels a hand on his hip and freezes, blinking in confusion when Bucky slides up behind him.  He’s warm even in his thoughts, strangely real and it feels like he’s touching him everywhere.  Callused fingertips slip along the hard edge of his wing and he shudders, a strange warmth slipping down his spine when Bucky’s fingers find the flesh beneath his feathers.  

He feels Bucky’s breath against his neck, can smell the sweetness of it and tilts his head in a completely involuntary reaction to giving him more space to be closer.  Sam’s eyes flutter closed when teeth find his ear and Bucky’s hips move even closer to his own.

If this is the kind of thing that went along with the loud, busy rhythm that is pounding in his ears then maybe it’s not so bad after all.


	17. Helping the Other Move

He’s been in this apartment for years.  It’s the first place that ever really felt like home since he moved out of his mom’s house at 18 and it feels strange, seeing so many boxes piled up everywhere.  Sam didn’t think he had so much stuff but apparently once he settled in he had just kept filling up the holes.  Knick knacks, books, pictures, so many kitchen utensils.  He puts the last thing from the last drawer in the last box he needed to pack up and tries not to pay attention to how reluctant he is, or how his chest tightens when he closes the box.  The packing tape makes a loud sound in the empty space.

Sam keeps telling himself this is a good thing.  He’s moving to New York. He’s going to be an Avenger.  Helping people is what he lives for and there he will be able to do so much damn good.  

It doesn’t really help the feeling of loss though.

"Hey!  Why does this box say, Bucky?"  

He startles and looks up, trying to shake away his thoughts.  Bucky comes around the corner with the box in question in one arm, scratching his head like he’s been pondering that thought for a while.  He’s got his hair tied back in a loose pony tail and a contemplative frown on his face.

"Well, because it’s got your stuff in it?  Thought that would be kind of a given."  

"I have stuff?"

Sam can’t help it.  He laughs.  With a few steps he’s at Bucky’s side, taking the box and setting it on the counter so he can slip his arms around his waist and press a kiss to his quirked and confused lips.  ”Yeah, baby.  You have stuff.  You have quite a lot of stuff but everything in there is exclusively YOUR stuff.”

Bucky hums in thought a moment before returning the embrace and slowly melting into an easy grin.  The tightness in Sam’s chest cracks and loosens, and he notices.  He notices that when he’s standing here, Bucky in his arms and in his life, that all of the other thoughts don’t matter.  They’ll be officially living together when he gets to New York, one apartment, one bed, one life.

"You alright?"  Bucky slips a hand up to cradle his head and Sam leans into the touch, getting a little lost in the way his thumb strokes his skin.

"I am now."

This was his home for a long time.  But now that title belongs to Bucky, and that’s better than a thousand boxes of  _stuff_  could ever be. 


	18. Dragons

So dragons are apparently a thing.

It’s a new development, the dragon thing.  It’s got all the bells and whistles too - wings, hard as fucking diamond scales, fire.  The fire part is a little terrifying but hey, Sam can dodge it pretty easily.  He’s been relegated to distraction.  He and Tony keep it’s breath faced away from civilians and buildings while annoying the crap out of it.  They have a little too much fun pissing it off while the others search for a weakness - and they aren’t having any luck.

Neither, apparently, is Sam.

The dragon clips him unexpectedly and he goes rolling, coming to a stop still in tact and mostly hole on the street.  But it’s enough to rattle him and the heat starts to hit about two seconds before the flames are going to.

Fire never hits him though.  

When he looks up he sees Bucky standing over him with Cap’s shield in his hands, blocking them both from the deadly strike.  Flames lick and roar around them.  He’s so glad he’s got Bucky to watch his back, but even there under the fire a thought strikes him and has him laughing.  

The flames disperse and Bucky helps him to his feet. Sam takes a moment to pretend to swoon, complete with the back of his hand pressed to his forehead.  ”Oh my!  Saved by a knight in shining… arm.”  

Bucky gives him a quick kiss and a smirk.  ”You can give me your favours later m’lady.  Now get back to work.”

 

 


	19. Tight Spaces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Sam and Bucky are trapped in a tiny space together (closet? locked vault? backset of a VW bug?) and there is snarking & makeouts. Bonus points for Steve thinking it's hilarious. :D

“Well this is awkward.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at the man clinging to his shoulder with his one good arm, the other trapped between their bodies.  Both he and Sam had one foot on what remained of the tiny platform, Bucky’s metal arm grasping the hanging elevator cable and the other with a death grip on Sam.  He’d been in worse situations.

“Nah.  This isn’t awkward.  You just need to relax.”

“Relax.  Really?  Maybe if someone hadn’t missed their target and shot me down we wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

Bucky adjusted his grip on Sam, held him tighter.  “I don’t miss.  You got in the way.”

“No.  An explosion knocked me off my flight path.  And whose job was it to set the timer on that?  Hm?”  Through a barely concealed wince at the added pressure on his arm, Sam kept griping.

“The timer was fine.  Maybe if someone had gotten us to the drop off point sooner there would have had more wiggle room.”

“Oh, and I guess that’s my fault?”

Bucky shrugged.  “If the shoe fits.”

“Man,”  Sam rolled his eyes.  “I flew as fast as carrying your tight ass around would let me.  Our signal was late.”

“So what you’re saying is this is all Steve’s fault?”

They both fell silent for a moment.  Sam smiled first, breaking into a quiet laugh.  It helped him relax and Bucky was able to get a slightly better grip.  “Sam.  You have GOT to relax.  You keep tensing up and I can hold this cord all day but – “

“It’s hard, alright?  I’m in a ridiculous amount of pain, about to fall to my death, face to face with you being all… you.”

“And what is wrong with me?” 

Sam huffed and rolled his eyes again.  “Not a damn thing.”  He grumbled.  “And that’s the problem.”

For a beat Bucky was very confused.  But then he noticed the angle that Sam’s tension was keeping him, the way he occasionally chanced a glance at Bucky’s lips and immediately darted his tongue out to wet his own.  Bucky was reminded of how much he had thought about what he wanted to do when he was this close to Sam, all the times he had thought about kissing him, how he imagined what his full lips would feel like against his own. 

“You know,”  Bucky dropped his voice just a touch and shifted ever so slightly – just enough to brush against Sam’s ear as he spoke.  “I can make that _not_ a problem.”

“And just how the hell – “

Bucky cut him off with a soft but meaningful kiss.

And it worked.  Because Sam melted against him.  He quickly deepened the kiss and with his good arm held Bucky tighter.  The tension in his body slowly slipped away.  Bucky finally felt like he had a solid enough grip that if anything happened and Sam let go, he wouldn’t lose him.

Bucky relaxed as well. 

For a moment they lost themselves in the kiss, Sam gently and occasionally nipping at Bucky’s lips, the taste of him sweet and more intoxicating than Bucky had ever imagined.

They only stopped when the cable in Bucky’s hand slowly jerked into motion.

Voice raspy and broken, Bucky spoke first.  “Sam.  Wrap your legs around me.”

“Oh come on.  At least buy me dinner first.”  He chided with no heat behind it.  His lips were still close enough Bucky could taste his words, but he did as he was told just in time for the cable to begin steadily moving upward.

“Kiss me like that again when we aren’t hanging over death’s door and I’ll make you breakfast in bed.”

Sam smiled and dropped his head against Bucky’s shoulder with a soft laugh.

“Deal.”


	20. Through Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Waking up in bed together but not knowing how they got there.
> 
> I’m sorry, i hope you wanted two thousand words of accidental soul-bonding fic. ~~I’m not sorry at all.~~

Sam’s dream had been vivid.  Sounds, colors, sensations.

It was hard to categorize it all.  But it hadn’t been the first of its kind.  They’d been fairly frequent over the last two weeks.  He could feel himself pulling from the dream, something fighting his exit. Something warm.  It wasn’t malicious, more of a strong plea to stay behind.

Early morning light finally began to pierce his senses and he clinched his eyes shut tighter to cling to the darkness.

But it was the warmth that finally pulled him free.  Because the warmth of his dream was suddenly no longer in his mind but wrapped up around him, holding him in a tight embrace and very, very real.

Which was odd.  Because he had gone to bed alone.

Sam’s eyes shot open, though he made no attempts to move.

Shock was an understatement.  Everything felt so real, awake, but he found himself in a continuation of the dream he was – up till five seconds ago – almost certain had ended.  He was naked, laying half on top on equally nude Bucky, his nose buried in the crook of his lover’s neck.  Bucky’s arm was wrapped around him in a possessive grip.  The room was also not his own, but rather the room the two of them had shared a month before on an op in China.  They hadn’t shared a bed then, barely even kissed – though what a kiss it had been.

But Sam should be waking up in New York and Bucky should be back in Wakanda where he’s been staying during his down time.  (Though thankfully no longer on ice.)

“Buck.  Bucky, wake up.”  The arm around Sam’s middle squeezed him tighter then slid slowly down while Bucky moaned.  His hand rested around Sam’s ass and Bucky gave him a slow blink as he woke. 

“Mm.  Mornin’ baby.  What are you still doing here?”  Bucky was drowsy for only a moment, his own question seeming to rouse him fully.

“What am I – What are YOU still doing HERE?  This is MY dream, thank you very much.”

“No? That’s not…”  Bucky seemed to finally take in their surroundings and sat bolt upright, hair a mess.  “Where the hell are we Sam?”

“No idea.”  Sam watched Bucky scramble out of bed and move towards the window, took only the briefest of moments to appreciate the view, and then moved to join him.  “But whatever is going on I don’t like it.”

Bucky slowly turned to face Sam when they were again side by side, a look of curiosity lighting up his eyes.  “Sam.  What did you mean by _your_ dream?”

“I mean my dream.  You’re in my dream.  I’ve been dreaming about…”  He almost said _exactly_ what he had been dreaming about but pulled up short and just gave Bucky a grin and a shrug.  “Things.”

“I think I know what you’ve been dreaming about.”  Bucky slipped an arm around Sam and took a deep breath, leaning in close.  “About me.  Us.”  He paused and watched Sam’s reaction.  But Sam could do nothing but smile and nod, not ashamed, but not really ready to admit that he’d been vividly dreaming about sleeping with Bucky just yet.  Apparently he didn’t have to admit anything.  “Same thing I’ve been dreaming about.”  Bucky continued, voice dropping.  “Especially love the filthy things you say while you’re getting fucked.”  His lips ghosted against Sam’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine.  “Right up until you fall completely silent when you’re about to come.”

“Fuck, Bucky.”  Sam looked away, out of the window in an attempt to clear his head of the thoughts racing through.  Because Bucky was right, but that didn’t change that they were still way out of their depth. 

Outside the window Sam saw a constant loop of a moment he remembered from their time when they were really there.  If they weren’t still really there.  But there were new details that weren’t there before.  He figured those came from Bucky’s part of the dream.

“Does that mean that what we’ve been doing… especially what you did last night… we could be doing all of that in real life?”  Bucky’s gaze grew hungry, eyes tracking the lines of Sam’s body even as his hand slid down towards Sam’s bare hip. 

“We can discuss rim jobs and all the other filthy god awful things I want to actually do to you AFTER we figure out what the hell is going on.”

Bucky didn’t look as if he was going to make a protest as much as just ignore the second half of Sam’s statement entirely.  His fingers tightened until he had turned and pulled Sam close, bodies flush, lips parted…

“Ahem.  Excuse me gentlemen.”

Both men snapped out of it, Bucky immediately spun and placed himself between Sam and their intruder.  He rolled his eyes but figured it was something he was just going to have to get used to with Bucky.  “Who the hell are you?”  Bucky demanded of the tiny, bald man in deep red robes standing only a few feet from them.  He was very relaxed for someone standing so close to a very pissed off, very naked and turned on super solider. 

After only a beat, Sam recognized him.

“Master Shen?”

The monk bowed deeply, a small apologetic smile on his lips.  “Sam Wilson.  My apologies.  I wish the circumstances for our reunion were under better conditions.”

“Wait.”  Bucky shook his head.  “You’re the guy we helped last month.  The temple that had been commandeered for…”

“Yes.  And I am very grateful for your assistance.  But you see, while you were there, there was an – an accident that I have been attempting to rectify since you departed.”

Sam’s stomach dropped.  “Are we…”

“Are we still alive?”  Bucky had gone one notch worse that Sam’s thought of ‘on the brink of death’.  (Would have at least explained the dreaming.)

“No, no.  I assure you both you are physically and mentally as well as you have always been.  It is just – “ 

When he paused to search for his words Bucky lurched forward, anger obvious in his stance but whatever he had planned to do to the monk, he wound up simply stepping through the guy.  “Just tell us what the hell is going on.”

Without even blinking Master Shen replied.  “You are both dreaming.”

“No shit.”  They responded in unison.

This seemed to amuse the monk.  “You see, when you were about to depart to reclaim the temple I blessed your team as I would any group who needed to work well together.  But something… stuck… with the two of you.  The blessing is intended to be temporary, to unravel itself the next time you slumber.”

“But it didn’t unravel from us?”  Sam asked worry and fear beginning to seep into the already churning feeling in his gut.

“Just the opposite, actually.  It clings to something between the two of you and wound itself deeper than I could have ever thought possible from just the simple blessing.  After several nights I began attempting to unravel it myself but you quickly learned – however unconsciously – of your shared dream state and have been, erm, entangling the strings QUITE thoroughly almost every night since.”

Though Bucky laughed, Sam failed to see the humor in any of this.  He had kissed Bucky for the first time in China and hadn’t been one hundred percent sure of any mutual interest before that.  He was hyper aware of how south mind games would go with Bucky, especially so soon after finally feeling free of the terrors of his past.  “Buck.  I’m sorry.”

Immediately Bucky was back at his side.  “What the hell for?”

“I kissed you!  And this magic crap…”

Bucky shut him up with a firm kiss.  “Like hell.”  He said after a moment.  “I kissed you, Sam.  Way before we met Mr. Monk over here and I’d been wanting to for months.”

The memories of that moment were suddenly very fuzzy and Sam didn’t trust any of them.  Or anything, at the moment.  He shook his head.

“Mr. Wilson.  Both you and Mr. Barnes are still sleeping.  Though I have made you aware of your dream for the moment it is still a dream, and the mind can be deceiving.   So instead of battling your own memories, believe _me._ I cannot say which of you is correct about anything that happened before you arrived at my temple.  But what I can assure you of is that something must have already been there for this to occur in the first place.  The magic could not have clung to nothing.  The web was already woven between the two of you long before my blessing caused it to tangle so tightly.  This is just… extra.”

“How extra.”  Bucky asked.  He was holding Sam again, and Sam smiled.  THAT he could easily get used to.

“Irreversible extra, for one, if you allow it to remain for much longer.  You will be connected, at the deepest level of your soul and it is a bond that cannot ever be broken.  You will share joy, but also pain, loss, sorrow.  The fears you have will be felt by the other.”

“Would undoing the extra take away what was there before?”  Sam had to ask.  And if the response was even a remote maybe, he already knew what his own answer would be.

Instead of answering, Master Shen frowned and looked away. 

“No.”  Bucky shook his head, which surprised the hell out of Sam.  “Whatever you did, accident or not, just leave us alone now.  I think we’ll be able to figure it out.”

Sam knew he should speak up, be the voice of reason in the room – dream – what the hell ever they were in.  They had no idea how deep the ramifications of this connection would go, what the ultimate consequences would be or how it would affect them when they were awake, how it would affect their work.

“Mr. Barnes, I must warn you –“

“He said, no, Master Shen.”  Screw being the voice of reason.  Sam couldn’t chance losing whatever it was they had any more than Bucky apparently wanted to.  “If you could just, you know, let us wake up now I think we can take it from here.”

“You don’t understand!”  Master Shen quickly grew frustrated.  “This kind of bond is not meant for you!  It is eternal and never ending, meant for only the most dedicated…”  Though he continued on, Sam’s attention was taken by Bucky stepping in front of him, meeting Sam’s gaze with an easy smile.

“So I’m guessin’ this is still our dream to control, yeah?  Despite the intruder?”  He traced the curve of Sam’s face then cradled his head, coming in close for a deep and gentle kiss.  Sam felt it everywhere, from the connection of their lips and the warmth of his touch, spilling over him and through him down to his bones.  It was amazing, and the thought that they could have this between them was as thrilling as it was terrifying.

“Time to wake up?”  Sam asked.

“Absolutely.”

 

***

 

Sam jerked forward, in his own bed, alone, still in the underwear and tank he remembered falling asleep in.  The details were still clear as day but…

His phone rang before he was able to have any coherent thoughts about what the hell just happened.

“Bucky!”

“I kissed you.”

Sam blinked and tried to wipe the sleep from his eyes.

“What?”

“I know you aren’t going to trust your memory of anything right now.  But trust me.  I haven’t been so sure of anything in a life time.”  Sam smiled, and listened quietly.  “So. In China, last month, I kissed you.  You gave me one of the best dream orgasms of my life last night.  We are apparently soul bonded for all eternity.  And more importantly, you still owe me a list of all the filthy god awful things you ever wanted to do to me.”

“That’s the most important part of all of that?”

“Well, it’s the only part I’m still in the dark about so, yeah.  Yeah the rest of it seems pretty straight forward to me.”  He could hear Bucky’s ridiculous smile, could picture it perfectly.  He knew that they both knew that was by far not the most important part of any of this.

But apparently they had eternity to figure out the rest.

“Your place or mine, baby?”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you would like to leave a prompt you can put it in the comments or go over to my [tumblr](http://toriceratops.tumblr.com/) because everyone loves getting asks. :)


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